The moment Asrial stepped back into the examination hall, a wave of hostile silence swept over him.
Every noble's glare was like a sharpened blade pressed against his throat. Their gazes dripped with venom—not just hatred, but something worse: humiliation. A commoner had stolen the spotlight, and they would not forgive him for that.
Before he could even steady his breath, Therisia rushed to him, frantic.
Her hands quickly ran across his arms, his chest, searching for wounds. But then her fingers trembled as they brushed against something strange—a thin, silver scale forming on the side of his neck.
Her heart sank.
"Did she… did Elenor attack you? Did Yuu hurt you?" she asked, panic lacing her words.
Without hesitation, Asrial cupped her face and gently covered her mouth. He lowered his head, his lips brushing softly against her ear as he whispered:
"Not here. I'll tell you everything later. For now… sit quietly. Please."
Therisia's lips quivered, but she nodded, trusting him.
They returned to their seats.
But the room hadn't calmed. If anything, the air grew thicker—nobles glaring, whispering, their pride shattered.
The exam resumed.
Half the students had failed already—most of them commoners. The nobles who had willingly taken the exam to "show off" now wore uneasy expressions, as if Asrial's presence had infected their sacred ground.
Just as Asrial thought it was over, an examiner's assistant approached him.
"You are requested in the examiners' chamber."
Without hesitation, he went.
Inside, the head examiner awaited him—a tall man with curled blond hair, his face stuck in a smile too wide to be genuine.
"On behalf of the academy," he said, bowing stiffly, "we apologize for the… regrettable display earlier."
But Asrial could see it clearly—the seething hatred burning in his eyes. His pride was bleeding, but rules bound him.
Asrial sighed.
"I accept."
There was no point in dragging this out.
"That's all that matters, right?" He turned and walked away, leaving the examiner fuming behind him.
---
As he made his way to the dormitories, three unfamiliar figures stepped into his path.
They weren't wearing any house insignias. Commoners.
The boy at the front had sharp red eyes, silver-gray hair, and the kind of presence that could make someone mistake him for a noble—if not for his simple clothing.
"I'm Kai. Third-year. Head of the Commoners' Association. I've been watching you, Asrial." His smirk was calm, but there was a flicker of fire behind his eyes. "I'm here to recruit you… and the Sword Saint's daughter."
Asrial raised an eyebrow.
"You know I already serve someone. Why waste your breath?"
Kai's smirk didn't fade.
"I know. That's exactly why I came. We're not just building a group—we're preparing to reshape the kingdom. To tear down the rotting system that chokes this empire."
He crossed his arms, his words sharp as knives.
"Even some nobles have realized the corruption. They're supporting us in secret. But we need more than support—we need symbols. You and Therisia could become that."
Asrial chuckled, his laugh cold, almost pitiful.
"Naïve. You think the world cares about your dreams?"
His eyes darkened. "The world devours the weak. And your little dream will be crushed like an insect."
He stepped past Kai, his voice a blade.
"I won't drag my young lady into your doomed rebellion."
Kai didn't move.
"So should we consider you an enemy?"
Asrial paused.
"If your goals crash into ours, maybe. But if you don't strike first, we won't hunt you."
He walked away, leaving only his fading footsteps behind.
Kai glanced at his subordinates and whispered:
"He's different from Yuu. We still have a chance."
---
Later that evening, in Therisia's room, Asrial sat beside her bed.
He told her everything.
Elenor's proposition.
Yuu's crystals at his throat.
The sharpness of their silent threats.
Therisia's hands balled into trembling fists.
"The nerve! How dare the priestess recruit other knights like this? How dare she hurt you?"
But Asrial shook his head.
"It wasn't her. It was Yuu. He acted on his own."
His fists clenched, the faint scales on his neck shimmering under the candlelight.
"Tomorrow, I'll repay him. In the duels."
Therisia smirked, brushing her hair back.
"Oh? Weren't you the one who wasn't interested in fighting him?"
He gently patted her head, his voice soft.
"Things change."
"Get some sleep."
She whispered:
"You too… thank you for always protecting me."
---
That night, Asrial lay on his bed, his mind restless.
But then—he felt them.
Thin, invisible threads tightening around his soul.
The room vanished.
His consciousness plummeted into his inner realm.
A colossal presence awaited him.
The chilling voice thundered once more:
"None can escape the threads of fate woven by the Great Dragon of Fate—Weaver."
The sky fractured above him, revealing a tapestry of tangled threads, each shimmering in colors unknown to mortal eyes.
"Your second awakening has begun."
The voice rattled his bones.
"Defy fate… or be swallowed by it."
---
Elsewhere, deep within the academy's underground chambers, a wine glass shattered against a stone wall.
The head instructor's face twisted in rage.
"Me? Bowing to a commoner? I will not forgive this humiliation."
From the darkness, two men stepped forward.
One, a young man with scars lacing his face and crimson hair like wildfire. His crimson eyes burned with an eerie light.
The other, a mysterious figure wearing a green blindfold, his expression unreadable.
"The Church has taken pity on you," the crimson-haired one spoke. "We will help you take your revenge."
The instructor's lips curled into a wicked grin.
"Good. Let's burn them all."